Leonarda Da Vinci
by Cloudy Coffee
Summary: The merchant took in the strange figure, "I didn't know that Da Vinci had a sister." The figure gave him a mocking glance, "He doesn't."


Disclaimer: Cloudy does not own any characters or theories relating to those within the Da Vinic Code. As we all know they belong to the author of the novel: Dan Brown. She does however own Da Vinci's mother.  
  
Leonarda Da Vinci  
By: A very frustrated young author who loves to scare people with her obsessions.  
  
(This description of course includes many of the people reading this fic so I will be more specific and say that I am the only one of the lot who actually wrote this piece.)  
  
The artist looked out the window adjusting the sable brown wig on his head. His reflection in the window showed that his head gear was missing something, a thin leather headband perhaps. grabbing one of his mothers from the table he put it on his head and admired his reflection. Satisfied with the result, he went on to the chest at the foot of his bed and grabbed a dark dress out of it, one that in its simplicity was gorgeous or a least that had been what the peddler had said when Leonardo had bought it. Leonardo had been in fully feminine attire and this had confused the peddler a bit.  
  
Yes, Madame-uh, uh, uh- Sir? the dress looks absolutely marvelous on you!  
Leonardo had been so insulted that he hit the peddler over the head with a fish from the stall next door. How could anybody not see the decidedly feminine sway of his hips? The peddler must have understood Leonardo's body language for he corrected his mistake:  
Madame-uh- will you be purchasing the dress?  
Yes and three others as well. Had come a very contorted Leonardo's voice, send them to 3565 Leaning Tower Street, top floor. Say they are for Leonarda Da Vinci.  
Oh, I didn't know Da Vinci had a sister.  
He doesn't.  
  
Now, looking over the dress his female side flared and puffed up in anger the peddler had sold him a dress that had been ripped down the back and when he sat it looked extremely _different_ , as if he had a gaping hole in his back. Gabbing the dress he stuck it over hs head and started admiring himself in the mirror beautiful, absolutely magnificent, if I do say so myself. I look just like Aphrodite.  
Turning around he tripped on his dress falling face first on to the cold, stone floor.  
A few seconds passed then suddenly a knock came from the door, Leonardo C. Da Vinci what in the name of the pidgeons outside are you doing in there.  
It's mother, I hope she doesn't want to go on another shopping expedition. Her style is so simple-minded and out of date, it gives me a head ache simply seeing her wear the clothes she buys,' the artist thought.   
Hoping to make her go away he answered: Nothing mother, just thinking.  
Wrong answer.  
Thinking? Thinking? Do something useful with your time. No matter how much you think the people five hundred years from now will not remember you. Follow your brother's example and invent a cake, or go discover a continent and name it after me but for the cat's sake what ever you do, do not think!  
I don't like cooking and you know I'm scared of the water, not to mention I hate the cat.  
Leonadro C. Da Vinci, open this door right now or I will personally smoke you out!  
You're cruel, you know that?  
Of course I know that, now open this door or pay the price.  
Sorry, you haven't given me my allowance for the week yet.  
You obnoxious little peacock! I'm counting to three, one.... two ......  
Fine, why do you want me to open the door?  
Let's simply say I'm worried about you and want to have a little talk.  
You expect me to believe your worried about me?  
You want the truth? Huh? Huh? Well then: I want to box your ears out because I saw you in a dress yesterday and think that your form of dress is affecting your brain!  
Oh... which one? The blue or the pink? Because the pink is still going through some minor adjustments .  
There was a thud and dead silence.  
The door creaked open and Leonardo C. Da Vinic peaked out.  
His mother is lying outside in a dead faint.   
Or so it seems.  
Mother, Mother, Mother-no answer- Mother your cat jumped out the window!  
  
  
His mother looked him up and down for a minute.  
Leonardo C. Da Vinci why are dressed like a female?  
I was beautifying myself, making myself more attractive.  
As what? A girl? Who are you trying to attract? The neighbor's son?  
Why no mother this is the newest fashion from Paris!  
five weeks later   
The streets of Rome are flooded with males in dresses and with some very strange chatter:  
It's natural not a wig, I promise.  
Don't step on my skirt you pervert!  
That was my sash!  
The youth these days are really insane.  
Leonarda Da Vinci now fits in perfectly and is a famous fashion designer who is just about to invent the art of manicures. Meanwhile the people in Paris are scratching their heads, thinking I thought we always had the original ideas' and Who ever heard of a male in drag.'  
  
If you didn't like this fic criticism is welcome and even appreciated. Praise is also welcome although I don't expect any.


End file.
